Five Minute Friday time! Here we go.
She never enjoyed being an only child. Granted, she was an introverted child, content to rumble about with her own imagination and stuffed animals for hours in the day or nestle into her Granny’s shoulder while learning reading Wombat Stew. All she needed was her “Babba” (Momma), her Granny, and her teddy bear “Bubba”. She was content with her small family.
But God had better ideas.
First came the dad. The man who loved her babba and loved her babba’s “baggage”… who wanted to make the little kid his own daughter. Then came the brother, blonde haired, blue-eyed, a linebacker baby. Then the sister, sleepy, curly-headed, adorable. Then the youngest sister, the smallest baby of them all, the kamikaze kid, howling with laughter while propped on her head in a cupboard. The only child became the oldest, changing diapers, feeding bottles, catching burp juice with the burpee, searching madly for the pacifier, reading books out loud, teaching brother to read, showing sister how to draw, pulling other sister out of the shelf.
At first, she was overwhelmed. She missed the small life with just her Babba, her Granny, and her Bubba. Why did her life have to change? Why did she have to babysit these crazy monkeys? Why did she need to drag them around with her friends? Why did she have to have siblings??!
Eventually, after years of griping about her situation in life, God revealed to her the blessing of having siblings. The loyal, genius brother who always backs her up, who jokes around with her, who respects her insight despite being infinitely smarter than her. The down-to-earth middle sister, the soul mate, the fellow artist with the mathematical twist, who never judged her for spacing out because, hey, so did she. The kind youngest sister, with a contagious laugh, quick humor, and motherly, caring heart.
It was then she realized, she didn’t miss her small life. The life she thought had gotten smaller with the burden of siblings had actually blossomed.